may i
by qaby
Summary: Chlollie. "Umm, seriously? Listen, Chloe, if you didn't matter, I would've tossed you aside a long time ago, believe me. When you woke up, we were...fondling, for crying out loud! I never fondle! What does that tell you!"


**A/N: No other reason for this other than the fact that Oliver&Chloe=DO WANT! [: Story title comes from the song by Trading Yesterday, which is a good theme-setter for this fic...Also, I CANNOT wait until Escape!!!!! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville.**

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His eyes traced every curve of her petite body as she lay next to him, dressed only in sheets. His orbs seemed to be glued on the way her light golden curls splayed across his chest, on the way her arm was wrapped posessively around his waist, the way her leg was hooked around his. Oliver was never one to be so utterly _mushy_ about such a thing, but he couldn't help the way his heart swelled when she was practically claiming him as her own with those simple actions, even if she was doing so unconsciously.

Deciding that he desperately needed to distract himself from waking her up and immediately going for round two, he took in the surroundings of his bedroom, which basically consisted of all their clothes strewn haphazardly across every object, his suit jacket on the window seat while her panties were on his dresser.

He shouldn't be distancing himself from the main goal, which was to do anything possible to help Clark with the Kandorians and try to further along the progress of the JLA, not to spend hours trying to come up with the best way to seduce a certain spunky blonde and get her to admit defeat to his charm.

The night before he had lost. He'd spent hours at a Luthor Corp. meeting, trying not to fall asleep from all the extreme boredom Tess's voice was causing him, and just wanted to sleep. But no, he came home, loosened his tie and set down his briefcase, made his way to his bedroom, only to find a half-naked Chloe Sullivan perched on top of his bed, wearing _green fucking lingerie_, no less! He raised an eyebrow and smirked at the memory of her seductive propositioning, but cursed himself when he gave into her so easily after she traced the outline of her bra teasingly, causing all the blood in his body to go South and this evil glint to come into her eye that _had_ to be the single hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life.

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the woman in his bed, wondering how any tiny and sweet female could be so utterly manipulative and have so much control over his inhibitions.

She stirred, and he instantly worried about her reaction to their whole rendezvous. He knows Chloe wasn't the _easy_ type, far from it, and he had no idea how she would take it once her brain actually processed that they slept together. He, of course, had no regrets, thinking that it was definitely was worth the long wait, but as Chloe stated, they weren't in a relationship, but he still couldn't bring himself to consider their night together as simply a _one-night stand_. The term seemed so miniscule compared to what Oliver actually thought of the time spent with her.

Her eyes fluttered open and green met brown.

"Hey, you," he greeted, trying to keep his voice steady as he ran his fingers up and down her spine, easy smile on his face.

Just as she was about to give him an equally dazzling smile in return, she seemed to realize something.

_Her and Oliver were in bed. Naked. They slept together._

Her eyes widened and she immediately wrapped the sheets tighter against her form, trying to shield anything vital from his sight. She knew that getting caught up in this game of cat and mouse with Oliver was a dangerous situation, but, from the very start she strictly told herself that she wouldn't succumb to having sex with him.

_Look at me now!, _she thought with sheer disappointment. Her frown deepened when she looked up at him and his eyebrows were furrowed at her, obviously confused and disappointed about her strange reaction, and she noted that it wasn't probably what he would've wanted.

She shook her head slightly. "Ollie," she tried, getting up. "I'm sorry. It was a mistake, and I don't know why I let this," she stopped, making a hand gesture that indicated to the two of them, "go on for as long as it did," she apologized profusely, trying to keep the humiliated flush from reaching her cheeks as she moved around the room, wincing at the soreness in her thighs that attacked her with each step.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, getting up and placing a pair of boxers on his body before turning back to her, a loose t-shirt and another pair of boxer shorts in hand. She looked anywhere but at him as she took the clothes from his hands.

Once she was clothed in his attire, she gave him a wry smile and tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, which came down mid-thigh on her body. "I guess this answers the raging question of whether billionaire Oliver Queen is boxers or briefs," she tried, straining a laugh.

He raised an eyebrow at what was her obvious attempt at lightening the tension, but he wasn't going to let her get away with it that easily. Not after getting his hopes up like that. Not after making him believe, like some _lovesick fool_, that she would be happy to wake up in his arms. Because he _wasn't_ a lovesick fool, and Chloe's decisions _didn't_ influence his emotions. That would be too..._Clark_ of him.

"Please don't stare at me like that."

He cocked his head to the side as a smirk graced his still-swollen lips. "Like what?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Oliver," she warned.

He chuckled humorlessly, knowing he was about to snap at her. "Well, you can't really blame me for being a little shocked. I mean, after all, it was _you_ that came to _my_ penthouse wearing _that_," he pointed to the emerald green lace bra that was hanging off the corner of his headboard. "And then, you practically _beg_ me to fuck you, and you have the audacity to say it didn't mean anything like some show off of _Lifetime_!" He looked at her in disbelief, his chest heaving from the amout of steam he'd just released, and she couldn't stare at him, suddenly finding the floor patterns very interesting as guilt made its way through her system, gnawing at her insides, but she couldn't let him know that.

Chloe was born with instinctive backtalk in her system, so she couldn't really back down when the opportunity was given to her to talk down Oliver after he yelled at her.

"Oh, build a bridge, Oliver. I'm sure you'll get over it when a tramp throws herself at you on the street. You won't even think of me, so why should this little _encounter_ even matter to you?"

"Umm, seriously? Listen, Chloe, if you didn't matter, I would've tossed you aside a long time ago, believe me. When you woke up, we were..._fondling_, for crying out loud! _I never fondle!_ What does that tell you?!"

"That there's a first for everything!"

He threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. "Ugh, I have no idea how Clark put up with you for _ten goddamned years_!"

When he could visibly see that Chloe's lower lip was trembling and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, Oliver sighed and stepped forward slowly, hands rubbing at the sides of her arms comfortingly, feeling like a complete douche for delivering that low blow. "I'm sorry for blowing up at you like that," he apologized, putting a finger under her chin and directing it upwards so they could make eye contact and she would see he was being sincere. "I didn't mean it."

She shook her head. "You're right. I just..." She gave a wry chuckle as she replayed all the memories of the guys in her life, and how she could never seem to have a happy ending with any of them. "Relationships were never my thing," she admitted, and was surprised when he burst out in laughter.

"Believe me, Chloe, I can relate." He sympathized with her. Both of them had only had one real and successful relationship in their lives, and both had ended in disaster, thus sending them back to deal with matters on their own. They were both basically loners, Oliver always falling down the rabbit hole into destruction, and Chloe always being second-best no matter what she managed to accomplish. His eyebrows furrowed. "But we weren't in a relationship..."

She gave him a small smile in return. "I know, Ollie. But that's the direction I felt this was going, and I guess that, I don't want it to go in that direction. And I'm still kinda fresh on what happened with Jimmy...it just hurts to admit that I feel anything close to romantic for anyone but him, so I guess I was _scared_."

He tried hard as hell not to burst out laughing again. _Chloe_, who faced deadly creatures on a weekly basis. _Chloe_, who _chooses_ to be in danger by being part of the JLA as Watchtower. _Chloe_, who had risked her life many times for her loved ones.

_That_ Chloe, was afraid of letting someone in?

He caressed her cheek, his lips in a grim line. "I don't know where this is going. I don't want to rush you into anything, Chloe, because of what happened with Jimmy..." he trailed off, swallowing the huge lump that had formed in his throat at the memory of the beloved photographer whom they'd all loved and lost. "But he wants you to be happy," he assured her, confident that he was right. "And if you choose to be happy with me, he'll understand."

She bit her lip as a tear slipped down her cheek, but she smiled through it nonetheless. "You think?"

He nodded, pulling her in for a hug, bending down to kiss her hair as her head laid on his chest, thinking that she was way too selfless for her own good, willing to give up her own personal happiness as a respect to her dead ex-husband.

He couldn't help but laugh at something, thinking that it would help lift the mood a bit anyway, knowing that Chloe wouldn't be able to help the curiosity. As he predicted, Chloe smiled at him and looked up at him through long lashes, green eyes inquisitive. "Victor and AC were right. Did you know they'd bet on when we'd get together?"

Chloe gaped. _"Seriously?"_

He nodded, smiling as thoughts of the rest of the JLA ran through his head. "Victor bet that we'd be together by the time you turned twenty-five, and AC was positive that it would take me much longer to grow a pair and ask you out, thus leading him to believe that we wouldn't get together until after you were thirty," he explained, snickering at the flabbergasted expression on her face, and decided to continue. "And that isn't even the funniest part. Bart took place in the bet too, saying that you'd never betray him like that because you were his _Chloelicious_," he finished, frowning at the thought of Bart having any sort of claim on Chloe.

"Looks like Victor won that bet," she confirmed, and he grinned down at her, leaning down to capture her lips with his, cursing himself for having it taken this long to make him realize that Chloe indeed is a girl, and not just _any_ girl, an attractive, intelligent, and heroic girl. Everything he'd wanted had been in front of him for three years, and he'd been blinded until now. He'd only kissed Chloe a few times, but he couldn't deny that the contact their mouths were making seemed so natural.

_So right._

When they pulled away, he noticed that Chloe's eyes seemed to have grown a bit darker, and she bit her lip, tracing his abdomen with her finger, standing up on her tip toes. "You up for round two?" she whispered seductively in his ear, causing a shiver to go through his body.

He smirked at her, holding her hips in his hands. "Always, babe."

She once compared their entire situation to a game of chess.

As he gently pushed her back onto the bed, he couldn't help but smile against her lips, one word crossing his thoughts like a huge neon sign in relation to her analogy.

_Checkmate._

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**A/N: REVIEW, my lovelies!!!! [:**


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